“A collection of profound and epic album reviews and musical articles by former astronaut and brain surgeon, Alasdair Kennedy. Reaching levels of poetry that rival Keats and Blake, the following reviews affirm Alasdair to be a prodigy, a genius and a god whose opinion is always objectively right. He is also without a doubt the most modest man in the universe.” - Alasdair Kennedy

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Friday, 28 April 2017

You don’t have to dig far to work out the themes on this new
album by Compton rapper Kendrick Lamar - the track titles are a bit of a giveaway.
But that isn’t to say this is a surface-level listen. Kendrick? Surface-level?
Don’t be silly.

To Pimp A Butterfly
– the rapper’s last record if you ignore the untitled unmastered b-sides release – was a jazzy epic that tackled
external issues of race, sex and class. DAMN
in contrast focuses on internal issues of pressure to succeed and fear of
losing creativity. And it’s definitely not for jazzheads. ‘DNA’ swiftly
establishes that with its 808s and seismic beat shift, certain to even have gold-grilled
ganglords in their traphouses wincing.

We’ll return to the sonic side of DAMN in a moment. Lyrically, let’s discuss these internalised
lyrics first. Whilst previous albums have been told through characters and allegories, this record is all delivered from the perspective of Kendrick
himself (with the exception of ‘DUCKWORTH’ – the surprise story of how his dad was almost killed before his birth). And yet whilst the themes are signposted in
big bold capitalised lettering, the message behind these songs isn’t so clear this time around. It’s
as if he simply wants to vent his feelings and let us make sense of them this
time: ‘And I can’t take these feelings
with me so I hope they disperse/ within fourteen tracks, carried out over wax/
wondering if I’m living through fear or living through rap’.

Hearing Kendrick sounding so lost and vulnerable was
unexpected – you’d think a dude with Kendrick’s level of success would have no
concerns. But clearly fame isn’t everything. If anything, this vulnerability and
self-consciousness only adds to Kendrick’s relatability and likability.

Back to the sonic side of DAMN. It’s not all trap bangers like ‘DNA’. In fact, it’s a mixed
bag – the likes of ‘LOYALTY’, featuring vocals from Rihanna, show a more
poppy side, whilst the likes of ‘XXX’ meander experimentally all over the place
boasting police sirens, detuned pianos and guest vocals from Bono. Kendrick’s delivery
meanwhile constantly and creatively shifts to match each song, singing soulfully
on ‘YAH’ and then dropping mean bars on ‘XXX’.

There are points where, unusually, Kendrick does seem to be picking
up styles that don’t quite suit him. ‘LOVE’ ventures a little too far into
generic love balladry – not helped by the Bieber-like sung hook from Zacari. ‘GOD’ meanwhile sees Kendrick using a horrible
vocal tone that sounds like a bad Fetty Wap impression.

These dud tracks don’t ruin DAMN, but they do prevent it being
the masterpiece that its predecessor was. For its lyrical content, there’s no
faulting it. Kendrick’s more personal and introspective approach makes it
standout from other records in his discography, and proves his further knack
for conceptual albums.

After a slew of massively mediocre singles from their new
album Humanz (which is out today),
the cartoon collective have finally come through with a gem titled ‘The
Apprentice’. The track contains three guest vocalists (including UK soul hitmaker
Rag ‘n’ Bone Man) and a smooth electrofunk beat that’s as feelgood as a warm
bath whilst eating Haagen Dazs. But wait – there’s a catch. It turns out this
is only a bonus track on Humanz. Why
you gotta leave the best single off the album?

Singer-songwriter sensei Sufjan Stevens and his newly
acquired gang of musical ninjas are releasing an album themed around the solar
system. After experimenting with T-Pain vocals and synthesizers on ‘Saturn’
much to my displeasure, Sufjan seems to now be cutting out the electronics and embracing
the emotive frailty of his voice on this new single ‘Mercury’. He then hands
the track over to the instrumentation at the end, consisting of some dazzling
strings and pianos. And to all you devout Sufjan followers, yes I agree the
live version from five years ago has more grandeur, but oh well this version is
still pretty.

‘GOD’ – Amique

This maximalist mindfuck doesn’t give you much of a chance
to warm up. As soon as you hit play, you’re assaulted with layers of loopy vocals,
frenetic funk and stuttering noise grooves. The song deserves a straightjacket,
but then so do I. All in all, I’m curious to hear more from this mysterious
Amique character.

‘Silent Witness’ – S.O.S

EPILEPSY WARNING! To be honest, I doubt most you guys even
read these descriptions before hitting the play button. Anyhow, now you’ve
recovered from your seizure, let me introduce you to Bedford-based electropop
artist S.O.S. Her new single ‘Silent Witness’ sees her singing bouncily over a glitzy
shuffling dance beat, even throwing down a surprise rap verse at the end. Creepy
strobed art-dance music video aside, it’s very fun and bubbly stuff.

THE WORST:

‘Devil on Hwy 9’ – Danzig

Things have clearly gone so downhill for the heavy metal
veterans that they couldn’t even afford a producer to do the mixing. Why do the
instruments sound like they were recorded in a studio, whilst the vocals sound
like they were recorded on a plastic cup and string?

‘All the time’ -
Young Thug

At this point I don’t expect Young Thug to ever learn how to
ride a beat, but come on, this is sloppy even by his standards.

Friday, 21 April 2017

The threat of nuclear war is in the air. My Easter eggs are
almost finished. At least we have music to fall back on. And yes, the Kendrick
Lamar review is coming.

THE BEST:

‘Land Animal’ – Bent
Knee

If these Boston art rockers didn’t sound bombastic I’d be
worried. ‘Land Animal’ switches between jazzy, proggy and theatrical, all the while remaining utterly over the top. It rises and falls like an acrobat, changing pace and direction fervently. And just when
you think you’re prepared for anything, the group chuck in some electronic ambience to
show that they can do hypnosis on top of their other circus tricks. I loved
their album Shiny Eyed Babies – will their
new record be as bonkers?

‘Misery Porn’ – Pool
Art

Mmmm, MY FAVOURITE TYPE OF PORN. According to the noise
rockers themselves, the title is influenced by gritty TV shows such as The Leftovers and movies such as The Lobster that have been described as
‘misery porn’ by critics due to being so relentless in their portrayal of human suffering.
It suits Pool art, who have proven on previous tracks that they’re a lugubrious bunch. Yes, this may certainly be their most uptempo track to date (the percussion
is nuts), but the cavernous reverb and dingy distortion remind us that Pool Art
aren’t about to turn to bubblegum pop any time soon.

‘MDMA’ - MUX

Mmmm, MY FAVOURITE PRESCRIPTION DRUG. The opening vocals and
bright guitars had me expecting Alt-J-esque indie, but then the gurgling synth
bass erupted from nowhere and completely threw my musical compass into disarray. Several
progressions after and I had no clue what I was listening to anymore (all I can
tell you is that I enjoyed it). I’m not sure where a band like MUX fits in – at
an alt rock bar or a rave tent? I guess it’s the fact that they don’t fit in
that makes them so exciting. Put your pills away and let these London lads be
your serotonin rush.

‘Sinner’ – Philip
Morgan Lewis

Consisting of just vocals and drums (with the odd
squeal of dirty guitar here and there), this bluesy anthem feels mighty in
spite of its minimalism. The way it’s chanted has an almost gospel feel to it.
But whilst its sonic roots may be from a century ago, the production is
ultra-modern allowing every sound perfect space to breathe.

‘100 Shots’ – Young Dolph

‘How the fuck you miss
a whole hundred shots!’ I wouldn’t ordinarily call myself a Young Dolph fan, but when
someone shoots your car with a hundred bullets and you come out unscathed and respond
with a mean track like this, you earn my respect. Plus, that beat is the teaser
of all beats. When the bass finally dropped after two and a half minutes I felt
like I’d finally released a sneeze that wouldn’t come out.

THE WORST:

‘Good Goodbye’ – Linkin Park ft. Pusha T and
Stormzy

You’d think Pusha T and Stormzy might be able to elevate
this beyond generic club pop. But at this point, Linkin Park are such masters
of mediocrity that they could invite anyone to feature on this track and it
would still be a snoozefest.

Thursday, 20 April 2017

‘Do not open’ is good
advice. If someone bought you this album and it’s still in the polyethylene
wrapping, politely return the album and then disown that friend forever.

When US EDM duo The Chainsmokers first broke the mainstream
with satirical dance track ‘#SELFIE’ in 2014, their humour was entertaining,
even if the crappy K-pop synth drop was an anti-climax. Since then, the
Chainsmokers have grown to a star status that rivals Calvin Harris. They’ve
also reached a level of blandness that rivals Calvin Harris. But rather than
simply posting a video of paint drying like I did for my review of ‘Motion’,
let’s get to the bottom of what makes these dudes so remarkably dull.

How about the fact that almost every track on Memories…Do Not Open uses practically the
same processed glossy pianos, the same vaguely tropical percussion and the same
template chorus-style synth drops. Skipping through the album, you can barely
tell when one track ends and the next begins.

But that’s not the real crime here. No, the real stinker is
the fact that they’ve now lyrically become those same vapid nightclub drones
that they once mocked on ‘#SELFIE’.

I could excuse a bunch of deliberately brainless bangers
about twerking or Barbara Streisand. But instead we get songs that are actually
trying to be ‘emotional’. I use inverted commas here because quite frankly a
plank of wood has experienced more emotions than the narrators of these club
drama anthems. The first song is about not getting invited to a party. And that’s
supposed to be emotional?

Maybe it’s because I’m no longer sixteen years old. Maybe it’s
because I’ve just arrived from Mount Eerie to this. I can only imagine that if
you get thrills from this, you’ll get thrills from anything.

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

This might just be the most powerful
record I’ve ever listened to. And trust me, I’ve listened to a lot of records.

I’m going to refrain from being my usual jokey self for this
review. Centred around the recent loss of his wife to cancer, this new album
from singer-songwriter Phil Elverum (aka Mount Eerie) is predictably a heavy listen.
Any music that directly tackles a real life personal death is going to be a
heavy listen. Sufjan Stevens’ Carrie & Lowell and Sun Kil Moon’s Benji
are two recent examples of albums that engaged in such subject matter, both of
which I rated highly on this blog.But
this album has taken things one bold step further.

‘Death is real,’
Phil opens the first track ‘Real Death’. ‘Someone’s
there and then they’re not/And it’s
not for singing about/ It’s not for making into art.’ Phil’s voice seems calm and there’s a warmth
to the guitars, but there’s something immediately alarming about how stark the
production is and how direct the lyrics are. Immediately, you realise that this
song is set barely a week after his partner Genevieve died – most likely
written a week after. Phil sets out describing his grief, walking into rooms
only to be met by emptiness, and most heart-wrenchingly, collapsing on the
doorstep after receiving a parcel delivered to her, by her, for their baby
daughter.

Whilst many singer-songwriters have mythologised loss, twisting it
into something profound but ultimately abstract, this album lays out loss and
all its personal torment in gritty detail. The tracks that follow are just as
raw and insistent in their detail. It eventually becomes apparent that they are
taking on a diary form, with each new song set a little longer after the death.
But Phil’s grief does not subside, but only take on new forms of pain as he
recounts the pain of clearing out her stuff, and later the realisation that real life memories are being replaced by photographs. Death even hangs heavy in the background as he describes in passing the burning of a nearby forest and, in a sick turn of events, the death of his counsellor.

Most striking is Phil’s refusal to give us any life lessons
regarding the subject. As he states at the end of ‘Real Death’: ‘I don’t want to learn anything from this’.

This is not a fun album. It betrays all the criteria I’ve
ever looked for in an album, not just through its unrelenting depictions of
grief, but by relying almost wholly on context as opposed to content.
Musically, the album is as basic as it gets. Having previously experimented in
genres from ambient electronica to black metal and having always shown a flair
for poetry, A Crow Looked At Me is
contrastingly stripped back to a bluntly delivered diary of events with often
nothing but an acoustic guitar to provide company – his wife’s guitar to be
exact (as if this wasn’t intimate enough, the whole thing is also played on her
instruments).

I spent much of this album clinging onto any glimmer of positivity
and hope that I could. But Phil simply delivers blow after blow of tragedy, so
much so that after a couple tracks I considered throwing in the towel. I didn’t
want to hear any more, because it was real, and we spend too much of our lives
avoiding the harsh reality of death. One can only hope that Phil is now slowly finding
relief – his final line ‘and there she
was’ may be the only glimmer of self-reassurance here, even if he is seeing
an apparition, or at the very least convincing himself that he has.

This album may well be the closest you can come through music
to experiencing the first-hand pain of a loved one dying. In many ways, it
transcends (and that’s a word I use sparingly) the very purpose of music –
although make no mistake, these are still very much songs by the very token
that they are sung and set to instrumentation.

Ordinarily an album this stripped back might feel underdeveloped.
However, the lack of time put into these songs is essential to the impact of
the album. Phil wanted these songs to feel raw and to capture the immediate
grief – had he given himself any more time to produce this album, he might have
also given himself more time to fine-tune it and reassess the lyrics. By
allowing the lyrics to stay raw, we are given grief without a filter – an exceptionally
daring thing to do when so many men might otherwise bottle up such feelings. He
is letting us into the most private pain one can experience. And yet he has
turned this pain into something positive – a piece of art by all accounts and
one that is revolutionary.

Friday, 14 April 2017

This week’s been a drag. Just like your life – a drag. Just
like your dad – a drag queen. Just like that doctor that got dragged off that United aircraft. What the fuck was all that about? Anyway, enough personal insults and
dragging talk. It’s time to talk music and liven this week up.

THE BEST:

‘U Betta’ – Machinedrum

THIS NEW RUSTIE TRACK’S PRETTY GOOD, AIN’T IT? Alright, so
Machinedrum may be sounding a little less like himself on this new EDM banger
and a little more like a certain other electronic producer, but that doesn’t
change the fact that this is good stuff. Those squealing synth chords and
stupendous drops are like chewing on a mouthful of popping candy.

‘Go Down Dancing’ –
Soliterre

There’s a reason disco has persisted so long. Every time I
think the genre’s run its course, a new artist like Soliterre comes along with
a tune like ‘Go Down Dancing’ and shows that there’s still life in the old dog
yet and that funky grooves will always have a time and place. In a brave move,
the Vancouver producer even manages to throw in a trumpet solo, piano solo and
guitar solo all whilst somehow remaining tasteful.

‘Biking’ – Frank
Ocean ft. Tyler the Creator and Jay Z

Frank has teamed up with Odd Future buddy Tyler and rap
tycoon Jay Z to sing about … bikes? It turns out to be mostly allegorical, as
each member cycles through bicycle
metaphors whilst putting their own symbolic spin
on it (puns intended). Frank’s hybrid sung-rapped vocal style and the morphing soulful
beat give the track a dynamics that propels it along, even if the lyrics stay centred
on bicycles. Hova seems to be largely coasting if I’m honest, but Tyler’s verse
makes up for it.

‘Million Enemies’ – Wavves

I wasn’t sure where this track was going at first until the big
fat hook hit: ‘I got enemies/ a million
enemies’. It’s the garage rockers’ most singalong anthem to date,
accompanied by satisfyingly scuzzy guitars, powerfully punchy drums and a glam
rock themed video harking back to the days when guitarists could get away with
wearing capes.

‘Still Young’ – Sunspots

From the 10CC-esque washes of synth vocals in the verse to
the psychedelic splashes of guitar in the triumphant chorus, everything about
this song feels absolutely euphoric. The message is basically YOLO but with a
bit of soul behind it. Live whilst you’re young, not whilst you’re old. Kill
yourself when you reach 60 (okay, maybe I’m interpreting it wrong). Whatever
the case, these Leeds rockers have a uniquely mesmerising sound as invigorating
as climbing a mountain.

Sunday, 9 April 2017

Crazy-hat-wearing high-flying
Jay Kay and his crew of funky instrumentalists have returned to the studio
after seven years. Was the return of the space cowboy necessary in 2017? Or are
there already enough disco/funk revival acts out there?

This decade has already witnessed the likes of ‘Uptown Funk’
and ‘Get Lucky’ topping the charts. And the underground scene already has its
fair share of funk revivalists such as Thundercat and Anderson Paak. If
Jamiroquai were going to jump back on the bandwagon, they’d have to come out
with something a little more exciting than their 2010 adult contemporary album Rock Dust Light Star.

Automaton sees Jay
continuing to deliver his signature croons, sounding slightly more worn than on
previous records – probably from years of public tantrums. The lyrics are as
goofy as ever, consisting largely of space babble, boogie talk and relationships
with femme fatales straight out of a Bond movie. But it’s all innocently fun – if
Jay was singing about death and politics, I’d be worried.

Fortunately, the band have stepped up their game since their
last record. These instrumentals are ridiculously funky and feelgood – up there
with the band's Virtual-Insanity-era work. In fact, they make you realise most modern
funk is more watered down than service station coffee. ‘Hot Property’'s diving
bassline and outro of layered synths is audial sex, and the groove of ‘Something
About You’ is enough to get a deaf man tapping his foot. There’s also clear
signs of progression – ‘Automaton’ adopting robo-vocals and some sharp futuristic synths
that sound like they were engineered by Martians.

‘Nights Out In The Jungle’ is really the only dud in the mix
– an attempt at funk-flavoured hip hop that’s tasteful but seems to just plod
on aimlessly for four minutes. All in all, this may not be a ground-breaking
album, but if you’re looking for cartoonishly-vibrant dance music without the
pop filter or Hiatus Kaiyote-esque noodling, this album is your lifeline.

Friday, 7 April 2017

This week, I give you horny music courtesy of Alt-J and auto-tune courtesy of Sufjan Stevens.

THE BEST:

‘In Cold Blood’ –
Alt-J

Few bands can get away with reeling off binary code at the
beginning of a song. But Alt-J have always been charmingly nerdy (I still
haven’t got over the Yamaha DJ samples on their last album). The fact that the
instrumental is also distractingly nuts also helps.There are big fat horns and synthesizer arpeggios, and just when
you thought you’d heard it all, the band hit you with a climatic key change.

‘Whispers’ – AbiChan

AbiChan is the new project by Abi Harding. She sings and
plays sax – although not at the same time. She also used to be a member of
noughties rock band The Zutons. Remember them? Mind you, I wouldn’t entering
this song expecting Zutons-esque rock. Abi’s new direction is distinctly
soul-flavoured, although seems to uniquely draw soul influences from multiple
generations. The twangy guitars and smoky saxophone feel retro, whilst the
glossy synths feel current.

‘Marske Woods’ – Dome
Hall

This Newcastle-based band are a hard bunch to categorise.
They’ve got a saxophone and a keyboard in there, but they’re more indie rock
than soul. And their vocalist sounds like Father John Misty. It’s a wonderful
broth of rustic flavours they’ve got going on and I’m intrigued to hear more.

‘Ghost’ – Liana Banks

This unsigned New Yorker’s new r&b jam is about hooking
up with someone, having a good time and then both ‘ghosting’ one another. For
the oldies that don’t understand modern slang, ‘ghosting’ means ignoring and
cutting off all communication. Or perhaps she’s literally singing about
transforming into a ghost. In any case, this track is brilliantly catchy and
surprisingly effective given how simplistic the instrumental is, consisting of
a couple chords and the occasional splash of 808s.

'My Lover Cindy' - Marika Hackman

Last time I checked in on this singer-songwriter, she was writing sinister folk songs about drowning. She seems to have taken on a more bouncy alt-rock style since then, but the lyrics are still not exactly sunshine and rainbows, sung from the perspective of a toxic partner whose only interest is to use: 'Cos I'm a greedy pig/ i'm gonna get my fix/ I'm gonna keep my eyes on the prize and suck you dry, I will'.

Wednesday, 5 April 2017

The belting choruses were catchier than ever. Devilishly catchy. But where was
the artsy creativity and chest-pummelling aggression? After already becoming
more toned down on Once More ‘Round The Sun, had these dudes finally decided to pack in prog metal for full-on
Foos-esque arena rock?

Fortunately not. Emperor
of Sand is as album that needs time to warm up and stretch it's muscles, because once it reaches fifth track ‘Roots Remain’, it finds its stride. The
songs stay terse, but become more dynamic - juxtaposing fleshy distortion with light spacey twanging. And then like a round of shots ordered
at the end the night, they leave their heaviest tracks for the album’s finale –
two riff-laden bruisers ‘Andromeda’ and ‘Scorpion Breath’ and an eight-minute
leviathan ‘Jaguar God’ that builds slowly before plummeting into a mean thrash
section topped off with a melancholy axe solo.

At this stage, Mastodon seem to be juggling their crowds
well – catering to the fans of their more hooky new stuff and their heavy old shit.
Personally, I’d like to see the singalong choruses of the first half and savage
instrumentation of the second half of this record melded together more. Regardless,
this is still a hard-hitting gauntlet of tunes.

Tuesday, 4 April 2017

Listen up. Limber up.
Lube up. Pyjama-wearing sexually-frustrated psych rockers All Hail Hyena are back
and they’ve got another batch of infectious twangy guitar anthems to rock out
and knock over other people’s drinks to.

Last year, the Burnley band released Damp Detector – an EP selling on Music Glue for a million quid, whilst alternatively
streamable for free for all the non-multi-millionaires (check out my interview with the group here). Twisted sexual lyrics and erratic vocals that shifted
between airy singing and metal growling in an instance proved that this was not
just another boringly sane indie band. However, neither were they just a bunch
of fun-loving fruitcakes, showcasing a serious ear for songwriting and some
inventive instrumentation.

With this new instalment
S T I C K € R S we get three new songs, and two pieces of old material ‘Man
Up’ and ‘Complicate Tu’. Other than some buffed up production and a newfound
love for drum fills, the group haven’t done much to alter their sound on this
record – which is a good thing. The new tracks all feel like worthy additions.
Opener ‘Way Ho!’ gets off to a slow start, although its humorously dark lyrics make
up for this, alongside its catchy ‘Way ho’
chants in the latter half and following guitar outburst. ‘Sabbathian’ is a raucous bluesy jam that
makes you want to freak out or have a seizure or both. Final track ‘Debbie
Loves Her Neighbours’ meanwhile kicks off with some Pixies-esque strumming
before tying off the album with a stomping and epic instrumental climax.

It’s all creatively composed, each song darting off on its
own wild trajectory but always remaining terse and tuneful. A full record might
allow these demented UK rockers to really push their sound to its full potential. For
now, this canapé does well to satisfy my appetite.

Monday, 3 April 2017

Cloud Tangle is the
impressive solo work of Brisbane singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist
Amber Ramsay.

Her latest EP, Pocket, is a goose-bump-inducingly raw depiction
of heartbreak.

Sombre organs, fragile
guitars and lurching percussion make up the four melancholy tracks on offer. Amber’s
vocals meanwhile are sighed out and soaked in bleary-eyed reverb creating a
feeling of sadness that is truly intense.

Tracks such as opener
‘Always Falling’ build slowly in a suspenseful fashion whilst the likes of
closer ‘The Feeling of You’ take on a more ambient and cloudy form like a painfully nostalgic memory threatening to fade
away.

Whilst there’s no
shortage of gloomy artists out there, Amber’s approach feels truly distinct through
its lo-fi instrumental textures and longing vocals. This concept of sadness
even extends to her visuals, which are just as relentlessly bleak.

Below I interview
Amber herself about the EP, her favourite sad movies and songs, as well as
pizza toppings.

If Cloud Tangle was a pizza what toppings would it have?

Rain drops and fairy floss.

POCKET is an absolutely beautiful EP. The songs are all very
melancholy. Do these sounds and feelings come from a personal place?

Not necessarily from a personal experience but more just
ideas of stories that stem from a certain feeling. A lot of the
lyrics on the EP are metaphorical or highly elevated to make the mood
darker or more intense.

You play all the instruments on this record. Which instrument did
you learn to play first?

I first learnt the piano when I was about 8 and began to
learn by ear. From there I began learning songs on my own and picking up
instruments like guitar and singing which was influenced by my musical exposure
and tastes at the time.

Favourite sad song and favourite sad movie?

My favourite sad song of all time would have to be Videotape
by Radiohead. The track is perfectly produced and despite Radiohead's
overwhelmingly sad sounding songs, this one seems to hit me the most. The
saddest movie I have seen recently would be American Beauty.

Great choices! The Brisbane music scene seems to be buzzing right
now. Any unknown local groups/singers that you think the rest of the world
ought to know about?

Saturday, 1 April 2017

What happened to all the
rock bands that used to talk about real issues? Enter Idles.

Next time your old man goes on a rant about the current
state of rock you can shut him up once and for all by showing him these Bristolian hardcore punks,
although he’ll probably dismiss them as too nosiy – they’re a bit louder than Status Quo. Their new album Brutalism is what it says on the tin, sporting plenty of screeching,
swearing, guitar squealing and other assorted sounds from the extreme end of the musical spectrum.

However, there’s brains to back the brawn. Pretty much every
track on this record is a call-to-arms protest statement. No hot topic is left
untouched, from class to gender to race to religion. It's music to get you picking up your torch and pitchfork, marching into your local council headquarters and signing a petition (because, you know, violence is bad).

Thankfully, Idles also understand that music has to be entertaining
and that being just another bunch of preachy dudes with guitars won’t cut it,
and so packed into these terse tunes there’s also a lot of humour and personal
tragedy. ‘Well Done’s random assault
on Mary Berry is a good example of this
light-heartedness, whilst ‘Stendhal Syndrome’ is a hilarious attack on those
that ignorantly attack art: ‘Did you see
that selfie what Francis Bacon did? Don’t look nothing like him – what a
fucking div’. The likes of ‘Mother’ meanwhile seem to be very personal,
frontman Joe Talbot starkly screaming angrily at how his now-deceased mother
had to work ‘seventeen hours, seven days
a week’ due to a lack of government support.

Not all of the album is so direct however, and much of the
messages are left up to interpretation, Idles not quite letting you know which
side they’re on. I still can’t tell if ‘Faith in the City’ is an attack on
religious supporters or a plea to let people have what little belief they
deserve. This combined with Talbot’s emotionally-unstable yo-yo persona, give the
whole album a brilliant suspense. You’re never quite sure when the band are
going to fly off the handle and say something outrageous. They could target anyone. Even Mary Berry wasn't safe.

And yet at the same time you know that all this erratic behaviour is all ingeniously calculated. The instrumentation - made up of demented tremolo-picked axework,
meaty bass and razor-sharp percussion - is as tight and tuneful as it is rugged.
Meanwhile, when Talbot isn’t screaming his organs out or slurring slovenly like
a drunkard, there are glimpses of true melodicism in his voice such as on downtempo
closer ‘Slow Savage’.

Deep beneath the punky rawness, Idles are clearly a talented
bunch of musicians that can actually sing and play their instruments. They may be operating rather brutishly with a rusty kitchen knife for a
scalpel, but their ability to pull it off with surgical precision and
aptitude makes up for it, writing some of the catchiest hooks, tightest rhythms and wittiest
lyrics you’re likely to hear on a rock record in 2017.